The Scar
by mommanerd
Summary: This is just a little story that started nagging at me about our very handsome pirate captain, and that little battle wound on his cheek. Somehow, a mini "Day in the life of Killian Jones" came out of it.


"C'mon, Killian. You can tell me." Henry leaned toward the man. "Seriously, I won't even let my mom know about it. Just between us guys."

Hook levered himself back from the luncheon table and surveyed the boy. He rubbed his palm over the scruff on his jaw and contemplated whether his stubble was for another trim yet. Emma seemed to prefer it shorter, but his own preference was to have a bit more of the air of danger about him. A longer beard seemed to lend itself to that.

"So are you going to tell me how?"

The boy was persistent. He came by that honestly. Killian abandoned the exploration of his facial hair in favor of the smoother contour of his cheek, and the ever present reminder of a long ago battle. "My scar. Are you ever going to tire of asking?"

Henry grinned. "Never." The lad was truly engaged now. "I mean, my mom is dating a pirate. How many kids can say that? And YOU… you've got the best stories of all. You knew all the great ones and fought them."

"Most." Hook nodded, allowing the boy to see that he wasn't ashamed of everything in his past.

"So all I want to know is which one of them gave you that."

"Ah ah, son, that will remain a tale of another time." He glanced at the wall clock. "As I recall, you have an appointment with your other mother, and I have duties to attend to down at the docks." Those two facts were true enough, and conveniently timed to allow him out of this conversation.

Henry gathered up his things and slid out of the booth. "I won't stop trying, you know."

"Aye."

"And don't think that I haven't considered that the reason you don't want me to know is that maybe it wasn't another pirate who did it."

"Henry, you're bright, and I'd never expect you to abandon any possibilities."

The boy paused at the door. "So then it could have been a woman, and that's why you don't want to talk about it. Because you think my mom might be jealous."

A jealous Emma might indeed be a frightening prospect, or a deliciously fun one. He would consider that later, but for now, they both needed to be about their respective businesses. "Out into the daylight with you, Ensign. You have an appointment to keep."

He saluted. "Aye aye, captain."

Lord, he was fond of that boy.

* * *

Dusk had always been his favorite time of the day, and these days the early evenings were especially sweet, as it had become his habit to meet his Swan at her sheriff's station and escort her home. This beautiful goddess of a savior would greet him with a kiss and hold onto him as they walked along and shared details of their days with each other. Today she'd been chasing clues about The Author and what he could mean to everyone in the town, and she paused in her chattering to study him, gripping his arm as she searched his expression.

"Are you okay with all of this?" she asked.

"Of course, love. Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just…you're afraid he's got you in the villain column, and I don't want you to think that anything is going to happen to you."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. "I know you Emma, and you'll do everything possible to make it right, as will I." And he treated himself to another taste of her soft lips.

She smiled up at him. "Okay, so change of subject. What did you and Henry do this morning?"

He slid his fingers around hers and resumed walking. "We worked on that bloody science project of his."

"The solar system?"

"Aye, with the crusty white orbs…"

"Styrofoam balls."

"Painting them and hanging them about the room." He lifted their entwined hands to show off the remnants of the colors that remained embedded in his fingernail beds. "And now he's wanting to employ something called a black light, which sounds to be to contradiction in terms."

Emma laughed. He treasured her laughs, as they used to be all too rare, but had become commonplace of late. "And what else did the two of you discuss?"

"Just…things."

"Piratey things?"

"Perhaps."

He felt her insistent tug on his hand. "Come on. No holding back."

Hook sighed. "He's asking about the scar again."

"Ohh!" Her eyes were alight as she looked up at him. "The big mystery."

"Not a big mystery."

"Something you won't talk about."

"It's…" he searched for the right term and settled on "delicate."

"Delicate?" Emma grew silent and continued walking in stride with him as she considered the options. "So this isn't about something bad you did that you're ashamed of."

His lady was astute.

"So, are you embarrassed?"

"Perhaps."

They had arrived at her parents' domicile, and she invited him in, but he had another matter to attend to, and so he begged off.

Emma kissed him one last time before he departed, but her expression told him that she wasn't through digging into his mystery, either. With both mother and son on the case, his secret would not remain so for long, but for this night, it was still his to hold. "Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight, Killian."

* * *

The docks were mostly deserted, and his footfalls echoed over the water as he climbed the ramp onto his ship. She still smelled of the sea and of all her adventures, and he relished the feel of her deck under his feet again. Perhaps tomorrow he and Henry could take her out for a little tour of the harbor. They'd earned some sailing time with their hard work on the school project.

He felt a soft thump against his ankle and glanced down to see the furry creature rubbing against his boot.

"Ah, there you are little one. Time for your dinner?"

It mewled in response, and he kneeled down to stroke the black fur and run his thumb across the lone white spot, situated in the middle of the kitten's chest. "You're becoming impatient about your mealtimes, Duchess."

She rubbed her cheek against his knuckles, and managed to work her claws into his thigh. "Bloody hell, what is it with you felines?"

Her answer was an innocent purr.

"Yes, act coy, but I know your type, and I carry the scar to prove it." And at that bit of truth, he retired to his quarters, carefully watching his footing as the cat wove to and fro between his feet as he descended the steps. Once the creature was older she'd be able to snag her own fish out of the water, but for now he made sure to feed her regularly. Naturally, Smee was nervous around their new crewmate, but the man would learn to cope. Soon he'd introduce Emma and Henry and let them in on his deep dark secret, but he'd make them swear an oath to keep it between the three of them. It wouldn't do to let his enemies know he had such tenderness, and if the Prince ever found out…

He couldn't even contemplate it.

The horror.

No.

Never.


End file.
